Home Again, Home Again

                        

The unexamined life is not worth living.— Socrates

 

Home again, home again, jiggety jig.— Mother Goose

 

I’m home. Back to waking up to the dancing fog-swirled mayten leaves out the front window. My father’s violin hung on the wall, the open piano beckoning me after three weeks away. My old computer with the external keyboard waiting for my writer self to name the day, to return to the discipline of private reflection made public. Three weeks without a single blog and my heart kept beating and the world’s pulse didn’t skip a beat. But I did miss it. This indelible part of me that is just one part of me, but a needed one. 

 

Amidst the long list of things awaiting my return, from the small— get a haircut, buy new toothpaste— to the medium— plan the kids’ classes I’ll begin teaching tomorrow, the Jazz Course the week after— to the large— buy a computer, write the next book—is the thought of writing this Blog in reverse to try to capture the two weeks in Ghana and the week-long Family Reunion in the Rocky Mountains. Not the same when things aren’t fresh, but I think worth the effort. 

 

So dear Reader, just a short entry here to welcome myself back home and to greet you again and to renew a celebration of this life far beyond the @#$%@#$!!!!!of my last entry that tainted the tone of my hope in these writings with my battle with a culture that has the power to throw me to the ground. In the cab from the airport, I could already feel my muscles tightening as almost every billboard was about AI and I dreaded seeing the first driverless car— which miraculously, I didn’t. I have to figure out how to survive that assault, but I don’t want that to dominate these pages. 

 

Now my zazen cushion awaits, my oatmeal breakfast, my happily-anticipated Trader Joe’s shopping, back to the small and big things in the life I’ve created, that sense of control after releasing myself to the world of travel. I’m happy for it all.